


passing back the torch

by captainangua



Series: post TFA fragments [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Gen, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainangua/pseuds/captainangua
Summary: Luke had searched through every old jedi tome he’d been able to source, which when it came to it,  hadn’t amounted to much. Not one of them, that he’d been able to read, had changed his mind on what he believed the Force to be.It was about storytelling.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey & Luke Skywalker
Series: post TFA fragments [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681315
Kudos: 2





	passing back the torch

**Author's Note:**

> Look.
> 
> This MAY turn into one more giant divergence from the end of TFA fic, but more likely it's gonna remain this weird little piece about Luke thinking about things when Rey shows up.

Luke had searched through every old jedi tome he’d been able to source, which when it came to it, hadn’t amounted to much. Not one of them, that he’d been able to read, had changed his mind on what he believed the Force to be.

It was about storytelling.

He felt the power on him from the first moment his aunt had told him stories about the small guy beating the big guy, or of the runt of the family becoming a prince. It was the reason why after finding his family’s burnt bodies he hadn’t hesitated before saying he’d go to Alderaan. These weren’t things that made sense – they were things that were _right_. Even if the planet wasn’t there to get to he’d felt the universe pulling him in its direction – he’d known what he was supposed to be doing. He’d been able to close his eyes and trust that he would have the power to do what he had to, because the story needed him for it.

And now he felt that ghostly hand – of fate, the universe, the Force, or maybe very literally a ghost with its hand on him – touch his shoulder again.

The girl held out that lightsaber – his lightsaber – like she was drowning at sea and holding out the rope for him to pull her out. But she said nothing.

Something about the way she held her jaw made him think of the first time he’d ever seen his sister – that, and the way she was obviously trying to stop her lower lip from shaking.

(She was so _young_.)

 _Help me_ , Leia had said. She might have been desperate and in mortal danger and turning to her last and only hope, but she had not had it in her to say please. She’d grown up, (unlike Luke, always lacking attention in a busy farm full of grown-ups, needing to wheedle and whine for any scraps of agency in conversations) expecting to have her voice heard, and at nineteen, blazing with righteous anger, would only offer demands, not begging.

The next thing he noticed about the girl was how strong she was. If the Force was about narrative certainty then this girl coming as no one from nothing, seeking for a chance to do better, to learn, had a story clinging to her, Luke could see that before she said anything. Worse, it was a familiar story. Because he’d been that kid. And maybe he’d never grown out of being that kid.

Doomed to be remembered as the greatest Jedi who’d ever lived – who’d never even really become one in the process. He’d had a handful of days of training, from two very out-of-practice masters, and then gone and disagreed with most of what he understood of their teachings.

But blazing his own trail had been enough to save the galaxy.

Oh, he’d tried to learn, after. Of course he had. But he’d been an arrogant boy, surrounded everywhere he went by old tomes he struggled to understand, and not capable teachers able to challenge him. But when pupils had first been left on his doorstep he’d known he had what it would to take to train them better than he’d ever been.

He’d taught them, but most especially his nephew, who he’d doted on from the first, the importance of disregarding the rules. That rules didn’t matter so long as you kept remembering what _really_ mattered to you – what made you who you were. He admitted that he wasn’t even sure there really was such a thing as a “Dark Side of the Force” only people making mistakes, making bad choices. It would never be too late to start making the right ones again. It was good to control your feelings, but just as important to value them: even anger could be used productively, in life as in use of the Force.

And, in what should never have been a shock, Han Solos son needed no encouragement in disregarding the rules. The Skywalker heir had never struggled with summoning and valuing a temper.

When that was proven to him beyond doubt, beyond what he could allow for, Luke felt paralysed. The Force, the rightness of the story, had abandoned Luke.

It had only seemed sensible to retreat. He was disrupting the story simply by existing in it – he needed to let real heroes like his sister take up the mantle.

But now the Force had sent him this child.

It felt like a sick joke.

But Luke could still recognise a good redemption story when it slapped him in the face.


End file.
